


Worth the Trouble

by espressorobotics



Category: Mass Effect 2 - Fandom, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Fluff, Not really though it's mostly platonic, Reunions, i guess??, platonic fluff, so maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 23:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13177131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espressorobotics/pseuds/espressorobotics
Summary: Commander Jay Shepard is losing patience on the unnecessarily difficult mission to retrieve the vigilante Archangel; luckily for her, a worthwhile reward awaits at the end of that stupid bridge.





	Worth the Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, this got long. I just wanted to write that good good Shepard/Vakarian reunion from Mass Effect 2, because I played it for the first time recently and wowie. I wasn't even that into Garrus, but it was such a good moment for Shepard, stumbling across an old friend after being thrust into an entirely new body, situation, and social group. Anyway, it's a little wordy, not too shippy, and Miranda and Jacob are kinda-but-not-really there. My Shep is a little bit of both Paragon and Renegade, so hopefully you can see that through this. Leave me some constructive criticism so I feel motivated to write again!!! I beg!!!!!

Commander Shepard was beginning to think that this Archangel bastard might not be worth her time.

First, she’d been forced to deal with rude recruiters back in Afterlife just to get access to the guy - and while she hadn’t been expecting advance pay for a job she had no intention of completing, it would have been nice. Then, she had to chat with all three of those antagonistic mercenary bosses - one each for Eclipse, the Blue Suns, and Blood Pack - as she tried to learn more about the mysterious vigilante. Those assholes had yielded no new information, of course, leaving her as frustrated and in the dark as ever. And now, to top it all off, _this_.

The sight of the open, almost coverless bridge leading up to Archangel’s hideout made her irritated just looking at it. So did the faintly menacing gleam of a sniper scope in the topmost window, and the clueless freelance mercenaries running headfirst towards their deaths. It made her sick to her stomach knowing that most of them were poor, untrained people just looking for a quick buck - one that the mercs had no intention of granting them, even if they lived. 

Which, according to the number of corpses littering the bridge, was unlikely. Shepard longed for their positions to be reversed, to be atop that roof with such easy pickings. She was itching to try out her new sniper rifle - and her new fingers, for that matter.

Shepard glanced down at her hand, gloved and armored for the occasion, and flexed her digits in wonder. It was a strange thought, that these hands were not quite the same ones she had used and abused two years ago - two _years!_ It was a long time to miss, to be stuck in some nearly-dead limbo state while Cerberus built her anew, and Shepard still put off by the whole idea. After all, it had hardly been a week since she had awoken in that lab, confused and enraged, synthetic scars nearly pulling her apart at the seams...

But that hardly mattered now. Commander Shepard had to play along with Cerberus for now, along with her newest cohorts, Jacob Taylor and Miranda Lawson. The Cerberus operatives had not completely won her trust yet, but she had little choice of crewmates - which was precisely why, when the Illusive Man had offered her a dossier of new members, she had taken it immediately and set off to Omega to find the first three. Dr. Mordin Solus had been located and successfully recruited just yesterday, after a short and bloody escapade involving more mercenaries; Zaeed Massani had been relatively easy to convince, with Cerberus funding playing no small part; now only Archangel remained, just a bridge away.

However, Shepard was losing interest in the vigilante with each passing moment. The mercenary leader in charge of their wave commanded them forward, and she took a moment to don her new, Cerberus-issued helmet before establishing comms with Miranda and Jacob and issuing orders of her own.

“Try to blend in with the other mercs until we get close enough,” she said, lingering behind cover and trying to keep to the rear of everyone else. “Then we can funnel whoever’s in front of us into the house and take them out. I want it to seem like we’re one of them for as long as possible, got it?”

Jacob and Miranda both offered quick affirmatives before all three of them set off across the bridge. Just ahead, bodies were already falling to the concrete - each ominous _crack_ of the sniper rifle signaled death for yet another merc, and the fresh wave was falling in numbers, fast.

They each fired off a few crap shots at Archangel to keep up the ruse as they traversed the bridge with trained grace, sticking to cover as much as possible. He never fired back, although Shepard swore she caught his scope trained on her more than once as they neared the halfway point. Miranda claimed he had been told how to recognize them - they certainly stuck out, with two people in full Cerberus uniforms and one in deep red armor - but who knew if he actually did? It was, after all, a long bridge, swarming with a variety of targets to choose from.

Halfway across, progress began to slow; cover was sparse, and most of it was occupied by a few Eclipse professionals that had accompanied their wave, now harrying Archangel with heavy weaponry. Pausing, Shepard took a moment to examine her quarry in hopes of gleaning any new information.

At this distance, however, it was impossible. She only saw shiny blue armor, a turian-shaped body, and an imposing sniper rifle that swiveled around with surprising quickness, taking out targets left and right.

So surprising, in fact, that Shepard almost forgot to move when the barrel of that rifle suddenly turned to face her.

With a curse and a too-late reaction, Shepard dove away only for the shot to collide with her shields, near her feet. She scrambled behind cover with her heart racing, shocked and embarrassed and furious all at once that this asshole - this ruthless, good-for-nothing prick that she had never met, had landed a shot on her. _Her_ , Commander _fucking_ Shepard.

As the shock faded in the wake of her anger, Shepard peered over the cover with her own sniper rifle in hand. 

_Look to the right, you bastard. Look to the right...There!_

Once Archangel turned at the perfect angle, Shepard fired off a shot with surgical precision; the bullet clipped off the back of his armor, not hurting him but definitely catching his attention. He spared her a glance, before being immediately distracted again by another persistent Eclipse merc.

Waste of a bullet, perhaps, but Shepard felt justified.

They picked up the pace after that, the trio dashing ahead in short sprints to cover more ground as any shelter became a rare blessing. They were yards away when Shepard found herself lingering again - a mistake that she would not have the chance to repeat.

Another shot came ringing down from the window, colliding once again with Shepard’s shields and making her stumble backward. She growled and pushed forward in fury, thinking only of returning the favor as she entered the house and killed the three mercs standing between her and the stairs without thinking twice.

She took the steps two at a time, and threw open the door to the third floor unceremoniously. Archangel turned to face her, but Shepard was in no mood to talk; she wanted to rant, to scream and ask who the hell this guy thought he was, but there would have to be time for that later. Instead, she gave only a curt nod and headed for an open window to set up her own tripod and sniper rifle. In her peripheral, she could see the tall turian doing just the opposite, pulling down his rifle and using it to prop himself up in a strangely familiar motion. In fact, looking at him now, Shepard saw that everything about him felt familiar - the way he rolled his shoulders back, the posture, the casual confidence with that weapon…

Shepard shook her head, returning her attention to adjusting the focus on her scope. She didn’t know this asshole, and she didn’t _want_ to. She kept her gaze firmly on the bridge - which was, of course, empty - even as the mystery man removed his helmet, setting Shepard’s curiosity ablaze. She could feel his eyes on her, probing, and she willfully ignored the attention, not yet curious enough to put aside her irritation with this prick she had worked so hard to reach.

Her companions entered the room shortly after, and Miranda made a beeline for Archangel, who was now sitting at ease on the windowsill, ready to set up the terms of their agreement. “Archangel? Miranda Lawson, Cerberus. The Illusive Man should have contacted you about-”

“Shepard.”

The voice, as familiar as her own, shocked her when it interrupted Miranda’s, and the commander froze before turning slowly to face its source. Not knowing what to expect, she nearly choked when she found herself staring into the beady blue eyes of Garrus Vakarian, perched jauntily on the windowsill and wearing the turian equivalent of a shit-eating grin.

Garrus _fucking_ Vakarian.

Before a single word could make it past her lips - as if any words would sum up her feelings in this situation - her arms were around him, forcing a hug despite the combined bulkiness of their armor.

“ _Garrus,_ ” was all she could manage to say for a moment, his name choked out between deep and genuine peals of near-hysterical laughter. Laughter that he mimicked, albeit more tiredly, returning her embrace with gentle arms. He felt the same, sounded the same, looked the same - Shepard was instantly overwhelmed, unimaginably happy to see a familiar face when she had only ever expected another cold stranger.

It was too difficult to peel herself away completely - Shepard left a hand on his shoulder, hardly able to believe that he was really _here_. They still had a dangerous situation at hand, but all she wanted to do was bask in the knowledge that her best friend was alive, mostly safe, and finally reunited with her.

“Garrus, what are you _doing_ here?” She asked, her incredulous gaze never leaving his face.

He chuckled, flicking his mandibles, and Shepard noticed a deep blue flush to his neck. “Oh, you know. Just a little target practice. Have to keep my skills sharp somehow.”

He gestured to the window, and Shepard shot a precautionary glance at the bridge below. It was blessedly empty, but who knew how long that would last? She would have to make the best of a very short, hectic reunion.

“I’ve missed two years, Vakarian. How did you end up on Omega?”

He sighed, leaning his back against the wall, stealing what few moments of relaxation he could afford. “Well, after you were gone…”

He seemed to hesitate on that phrase, a frown making his mandibles pinch together. “We’re going to have to talk about that, by the way. I'm sure it's a long story, but I saw you _die_ , Shepard. Yet here you are, asking what _I've_ been up to-”

“Later,” Shepard assured, waving her hand dismissively. That was too long of a story, one she didn’t have the patience to repeat, not with this kind of surprise standing in front of her. “What are you doing here, and how did you manage to get every mercenary group on Omega on your ass?”

A grin returned to his face, and the sheer familiarity of it made Shepard want to grin right back. She’d missed Vakarian’s meddling, his self-righteous antics - more than anything, she’d missed _him_.

“I needed something to do once I realized I couldn't go back to C-Sec,” he explained, toying with the rifle in his hands as he spoke. “Not that they didn't want me, but after running around with a Spectre for so long, I wasn't sure I could handle the red tape. I wandered for a bit, looking for trouble, and when I stumbled across Omega...I couldn't pull myself away. Not when it was in this state.”

He turned around to look out the window, double checking for approaching mercs. Shepard tried to keep an eye on both the bridge and the turian, but the sight of her old friend was unexpectedly distracting, and she found her gaze constantly returning to him. It was astounding how little he had changed over two years - Shepard was grateful that it hadn’t been any longer.

“This place is a hotbed of criminal scum, Shepard. I don’t even have to look for bad people - I just have to point my gun and shoot.” He sighed, apparently a little downtrodden by the notion, then continued. “Naturally, I got up to a little trouble, started messing with the operations of some big time mercenary warlords, and...here we are.”

“Typical Vakarian,” Shepard shook her head, but couldn’t hide her smile. “Somehow I’m not surprised. But the name - why ‘Archangel’? Was ‘Big Turian Dick’ already taken?”

Garrus laughed at that one, throwing back his head and nearly hitting the wall behind him. He looked almost embarrassed when he recovered, clearing his throat and fidgeting with the scope on his rifle.

“It's, ah, just a name the locals came up with. Good deeds and all.” 

He coughed, and Shepard noticed a slight blue tinge creeping up his neck once again.

“But please, it's...just Garrus, to you.”

Shepard smiled, amused by just how little he had changed. He always held her in a position of such high esteem that it had taken weeks for him to think of her as a simple commander, rather than a celebrity; and months, after that, for him to see her as a friend. She treasured their relationship all the same, but the fact that his natural deference to her had lasted over a two-year gap was astonishing.

He sent another worried look out the window, and Shepard was suddenly reminded of the two shots she had taken on their way here. Knowing they were from Vakarian, of all people, suddenly solidified her thirst for revenge, and she had her best glare prepared for him when he turned back to face her.

“You nailed me a couple times back there, you know,” she mentioned, deliberately casual as she put a hand to her ‘injured’ shoulder.

Garrus laughed again, pointing to the back of his cowl. “And _you_ put a chip in my armor!”

Shepard looked, and sure enough, there was a distinct groove on the back of his armor where she had shot him. She smiled, more than a little pleased with her own aim. “A shot for a shot, Vakarian. Be glad I still haven't taken the second one yet.”

“I only used concussive rounds, Shepard,” he explained with a sigh. “If I wanted to do more than put a dent in your shields, I would have. _I_ , meanwhile, haven't had shields in at least six hours. Turns out they wear out pretty fast when you're under sustained assault.”

Underneath the bluster and exaggeration, Shepard saw his genuine exhaustion, and she burned with shame, remembering how she had blown off coming to his rescue earlier. When Aria T’Loak had informed them of Archangel’s situation, Miranda had suggested they go collect him first; and Shepard, not at all eager to recruit the vigilante, decided to find Mordin Solus instead. _“If he's as good as you've said, he'll survive until we get to him. Otherwise, he isn't worth my time.”_

Shepard cast her eyes down, furious with herself. If she had come just hours earlier, he wouldn't be stuck in this situation. Instead she had left him alone, trapped, and surrounded by hostiles, for all this time...

“How long have you been holding out up here by yourself, Garrus?” She asked, uncharacteristically gentle.

“They started last night,” he answered, no longer hiding his weariness. “And they haven't stopped. At least, no longer than an hour or so.”

He turned his gaze to the window once again. “Speaking of which, we probably don't have much time.”

Shepard nodded, returning to her rifle on the windowsill and examining the bridge through the scope.

On the furthest side, just barely within scope range, she could see security mechs hopping over the initial barrier to begin crossing. She sighed and took a quick shot, blowing the first one’s head off and causing it to explode onto two others.

She pulled back, expelling the thermal clip and popping in another. “You've got Eclipse mechs coming over the bridge. I suggest we get ready.”

A cough from the side of the room that Shepard had forgotten about drew her gaze to Jacob and Miranda, standing almost awkwardly near the door.

Jacob coughed again, clearing his throat. “Uh, I don't know about Miranda, but I didn't pack anything for long-range. I'll head downstairs, make sure nobody gets too close.”

Shepard gave an affirmative nod. “I was just about to say that. Get to position, Taylor.”

“I’ll guard the stairs,” Miranda added, sounding bored. “Since you’re both going to have your backs turned.”

“Good. Move out, both of you.”

The Cerberus operatives took off, armed and dangerous. Garrus got to his feet with a soft groan, rolling his shoulders and preparing for the oncoming assault.

Shepard adjusted her scope’s focus with a smile. Even in this situation, with a veritable army of mercenaries on the horizon, nothing could overpower her sheer joy at their reunion. Having Garrus by her side again almost made Shepard sick - whether with joy or with longing for simpler times, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that her best friend was at her side in the midst of this chaos, and despite everything, there was no place she would rather be.

“You realize you're going to have to explain to me _exactly_ how you managed to get every merc on Omega so royally pissed, don't you?”

Garrus laughed, and at the same time, took the head off an approaching mech, leading the charge of Eclipse. “It wasn’t easy. I _really_ had to work at it.”

“You? Working to aggravate someone?” Shepard teased, taking down two mechs with a single shot. “I thought that was just a natural talent of yours.”

“It is, truly,” he replied, bantering between the echoing cracks of their individual rifles. “But even I had to put in a little effort - Omega’s a big place, Shepard. All kinds of trouble for people like us.”

“People like us,” Shepard breathed the words, feeling right at home at Garrus’ side, and simultaneously longing for those who were still gone. “Who’s like us?”

He laughed, and Shepard swore she could feel her heart grow lighter. “Damn few.”

Garrus paused and spared her a warm glance, knowing exactly who she meant by _people like us_. “But we’ll find ‘em, Shepard. Or they’ll find us. I know it.”

And despite everything, she believed him. Stupidly, bravely, and now without any doubt, Shepard believed she would see her family again. Otherwise, her life wouldn’t be worth the trouble.


End file.
